


The Big Green Job

by ifitwasribald



Category: Leverage, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifitwasribald/pseuds/ifitwasribald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for prompt: Ross has started gunning for Bruce again, and the rest of the team Cannot Be Having With That. Unfortunately, due to political shenanigans, going after him directly is waaaaaay too risky. So someone gives Nate Ford a call...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Big Green Job

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kinkmeme

The pub was quiet when Natasha walked through the door, and she didn't like it. Clint was there already, and amid the thin crowd he had less cover than she'd like. This had been her idea, and she stood by it, but it remained merely the least bad option, and nothing about the venue of the first meet was improving her outlook.

Her eyes found the blonde woman immediately. Parker sprang to her feet and crossed the room to greet her with an awkward hug.

Natasha wasn't at all sure what to make of Parker, and she didn't like that either. They'd had mutually beneficial dealings before, and Natasha genuinely liked the other woman. Liked her without being able to pin her down or figure her out, and there was something about that combination that was deeply unsettling. Still, the woman was the best at what she did--better than Natasha herself in a certain, limited, skill set--and by all accounts the rest of the team matched her.

Besides which, it wasn’t like they had any better options.

As she sat, Natasha noted out of the corner of her eye that Bruce had entered and seated himself at the bar. Then she turned her attention to Parker and her team.

“This is Nadia,” Parker informed the group, her sing-song cadence making her appear far younger than she was. "Well, her name isn’t _really_ Nadia, obviously--”

“Natasha Romanov, alias the Black Widow,” noted the slightly disheveled man who had to be Nathan Ford.

“I was getting to that,” Parker pouted.

“Or is Black Widow the name and Natasha Romanov the alias?” Ford continued.

Natasha shrugged.

Ford nodded, toying with a whiskey glass in one hand. “So, Ms. Romanov, what seems to be the trouble?"

Natasha hoped to hell that trusting these people wasn't a mistake. "My colleague is being pursued by a corrupt, paranoid, and vindictive general in the United States Air Force. His name is Thaddeus Ross.” Her lip curled slightly at the name. “We need him taken down. I have on good authority that you’re up to the job.”

“A paranoid, vindictive guy with access to missiles. Fun.” And that would be Alec Hardison. She’d expected him to be nervous, but he wasn’t the one she needed to convince.

“So why’s this guy after your colleague?”

She paused for a moment, and finally turned. “Bruce?”

Bruce looked up, nodded reluctantly, and joined her.

“This is Dr. Banner. He’s the ‘client,’” Natasha explained.

“Wait, Dr. Banner as in Dr. Bruce Banner? As in ‘you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry’ Bruce Banner?”

“You’ll have to forgive Hardison,” drawled the third man on the team, “he’s excitable.”

Bruce shook his head, his expression more amused than annoyed. “I still don’t know where people get the idea that that’s something I say,” he muttered. Then his features composed themselves and he spoke simply, focusing, as she had, on Ford. “Yes, I’m that Dr. Banner. General Ross believes that due to my... condition... I am the property of the United States Armed Forces, and need to be contained and utilized for experimental and military purposes.”

Banner’s composure didn’t falter as he explained the situation, and Natasha couldn’t help admiring his hard-won calm.

The last member of the team of con-artists, current alias Sophie Devereaux, was apparently not similarly inclined. Though, Natasha reminded herself, with her it would be difficult to know what was a genuine reaction and what put on for some purpose of her own. “You’re a person,” she insisted, “you can’t be anybody’s property.”

“General Ross disagrees on both counts,” Bruce told her quietly. “But that’s not really the point. I’m told that you help the innocent, and I’m sure you know I’m not exactly that. But the people who would be hurt if Ross got his hands on me, not to mention the people that I’d very likely hurt in the process of his trying, would be. So I’m asking you.”  
  
“Do we get to see you smash?”

“Parker!” Sophie admonished, as Bruce murmured “I hope not,” in reply.

Parker shrugged brightly. “The smashing’s cool, is all.”

Everyone ignored that.

“We understand that this isn’t your typical case. We can pay, and provide certain resources,” Natasha offered. She looked at Hardison. “Tony Stark asked me to tell you that he’ll send along any tech you need for the job.”

“T-tony Stark knows who I am?”

“He was very impressed with your attempts to break into his personal systems...”

Hardison grinned.

“...and told me to let you know that if you try it again he’ll personally fry every server you’ve ever touched.”

"He can't-- no. Really? OK, right, uh, duly noted."

Devereaux seemed, or at least wished to seem, clearly decided in their favor. Parker had been on board from the start, and Natasha was fairly certain that the prospect of unlimited access to Stark tech was more than enough to sway Hardison. But this group wasn’t a democracy, and Ford remained skeptical.

He took a long sip of his whiskey before speaking. “So why us? You’ve got Stark’s tech and what I’m sure are your own formidable talents. What do you need us for?”

"Office politics. My employer can't be seen to be involved in this, and General Ross is aware of me and my current associates."

"Speaking of, were you going to introduce us?" Eliot Spencer’s eyes flicked in Clint’s direction.

Natasha had expected that--would have been disappointed if they hadn’t spotted him in this crowd. “Clint Barton. He’s my eyes on the room and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I assure you that he’s here for your protection as much as ours.”

Spencer nodded at that. He may or may not have believed her, but he wasn’t going to argue.

There was a long silence, and Natasha silently willed Bruce not to break it. She judged that Ford was a man who needed to take his own time to reach a decision.

Finally Ford spoke. “We don’t work for money.”

Parker stuck out her lip in an exaggerated pout, but no one spoke until Ford continued.

“But I’ll tell you what, we do this, and you and your team owe us--you lend a hand next time we need one.”

“Done.” Natasha stood, and Bruce followed suit. “If you need anything, we’ll be available through this secure protocol,” she slid a piece of paper across the table to Hardison. “Stark’s AI will route you to whoever is appropriate.”

***

The first call came half an hour later.

“How may I assist you?”

“JARVIS? Is this JARVIS?” Hardison’s voice was slightly shrill.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re-- wow, you’re incredible. I mean-- wow.”

“You’re too kind, sir. How may I assist you?”

“Uh, Black Wid-- I mean, Agent Romanov said that I could use this line if I needed anything.”

“That is correct, sir. We are all eager to assist your efforts in any way that we can.”

“So, uh, there’s some tech that would be... helpful. Usually I make my own gear, I mean, but for this target we need some more specialized--”

“I will get Mr. Stark on the line. Please wait one moment.”

The line was silent.

“What, no hold music? Pseudo-jazz or something?”

“I could provide whatever musical selection you request. However, Mr. Stark is available to join the call at this time.”

“Yeah, OK, cool. I was just--”

“Alec Hardison, right?”

“You’re Tony Stark.”

“...yes. I thought you were supposed to be the genius kid who almost got into my personal files.”

“Right. Uh, sorry about that?”

“Don’t worry about it. I will ruin you if you do it again, but for now don’t worry about it. What do you need?”

“The specs on his specialized anti-espionage tech. Gotta upgrade our bugs and comms and I don’t know if I can break into the security blueprints without leaving a trail.”

“Forget about that--I already sent all the bugs, wires, tracers, triggers, and comms you could need. It’s all good to fly under the radar anywhere Ross has even thought about going. The box will be marked Erotic Carnival. “

“O-kay.”

“There will be some other items there as well. Cover for the delivery. Obviously.”

“...do I... want to know?”

“Trust me, I did you a favor.”

“Uh... right. Tony Stark is sending me sex toys. This is definitely not some completely insane dream I’m having.”

“Well, wakey-wakey and go get the son of a bitch. I just wish I could do it myself.”

***

The second call came the next morning.

“Dr. Banner, Ms. Devereaux is on the line. She was hoping to make certain inquiries.”

“Of course JARVIS. Hello Ms. Devereaux.”

“Bruce--can I call you Bruce?”

“Of course.”

“And you must call me Sophie. Please.”

“Right, Sophie, what can I do for you?”

“I was hoping to speak with you about General Ross’s personal life. I gather you knew him rather well.”

“Nothing to tell--he hasn’t got a personal life.”

“He’s got a daughter.”

Bruce’s voice suddenly crackled with tension. “Betty stays out of this.”

“I have reason to believe she’d be willing to help--”

“She would. But I’m not asking her to betray her own father for my sake. Not again.”

There was a long silence.

“OK. Well, thank you for your assistance, Bruce.”

Shit. These people were helping him, saving him maybe, and he was useless. “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“He likes bars--old fashioned ones with pool tables and cheap beer and good whiskey. And he hates men who are... weak.”

“Men who he _thinks_ are weak,” Sophie corrected. “We can work with that. Thank you Bruce.”

“Thank you, Sophie.”

***

Thor was sparring with Clint, which mostly amounted to deflecting arrows and singeing the wall just behind the archer as the other man dodged, when JARVIS signaled a priority call.

“Hi, uh, Thor. This is Eliot Spencer. I was told I could call if we needed a hand.”

“You are on the team working to protect Dr. Banner from his pursuer?”

“Right, that’s us.”

“Then you shall have anything that is in my power to give.”

“We need the courtyard of Ross’s building empty at 3:15 tomorrow afternoon. So we were hoping you could make with the lightning.”

“Gladly. Shall I summon a storm that will be spoken of for years to come, or would you prefer something... smaller?”

“Uh, smaller’s probably good. Just a nasty storm that sends everybody inside.”

“I will consult with Dr. Banner to determine what is appropriate for this region of Midgard.”

“Good thought.”

“I am not wholly ignorant of less direct stratagems.”

“More satisfying when you can just hit things though, right?”

“I admit I prefer a good brawl.”

“Me too.”

***

“Captain America!” The woman’s voice was bright but quiet.

“Steve’s fine.“

“Your computer butler said I should talk to you.”

“His name is JARVIS.”

“Cool. So... I kind of need a distraction. Right now.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the base, next to the briefing room.”

“Next to?”

“In a vent. But all the brass is suddenly there, and the vent turns out to be a dead end. And Nate says I have to get out now or we’re blown.”

“So... you want me to distract military personnel so that you can get out of an air vent into a US Air Force briefing room?”

“Huh. It does sound kind of treasonous when you put it that way.”

Steve sighed and brought a hand to his forehead. Before he could come up with an answer, a crumpled bit of paper hit the back of his head, and he turned to see Clint’s eyes on him. “Ask which air vent.”

Steve blinked. “Um... which air vent are you in?”

Suddenly the phone was on speaker, and Parker’s voice was clearly audible throughout the room.

“The one in the east wall of the briefing room, near the ceiling on the 3rd floor.”

Clint grinned. “You don’t need a diversion--there’s a panel in the bottom of that vent six meters south of the turn. It feels like a standard joint but you can get it open and slide down through a gap in the insulation to get to the basement.”

The line was quiet for a moment, followed by a barely audible sound of metal on metal and then a soft thud.

“Nice.” Parker whispered. “You’re the muscley man from the bar, aren’t you?”

“...yes.”

“How do you feel about three-ways? Because my boyfriend and I--”

“Maybe not the time for this in the middle of a mission?” Steve suggested.

Clint made a face. “Not a bad point--those walls are thin.” Steve nodded in satisfaction at the response. Clint smirked at him and spoke to Parker again. “But look me up next time you’re in New York.”

***

“Good morning Ms. Potts. JARVIS suggested that I speak with you.”

“Go ahead, Mr. Ford. I appreciate what you’re doing for Bruce.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve hit a little snag. We’re almost there, but to wrap things up we need Mr. Stark to buy a bar.”

“...OK.” Realistically, it was considerably less ridiculous than most of the things Tony asked her to do. “I can take care of that.”

“Normally we’d steal one--”

“How do you steal a bar? No, nevermind. I don’t think I want to know.”

“This will just work better if Ross knows the place is Tony’s.”

Pepper nodded absently. “Those two do have a history with bars. Transmit the information and I’ll get legal on the line. The place will be in Tony’s name by lunch. I trust you’d like the acquisition to be public.”

“Very.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

***

There were no more calls.

Two days later, JARVIS interrupted the team practice. “Mr. Ford and his team request a word.”

Tony landed immediately and put up his visor. “Put them through.”

“They are in the foyer.”

“Here? Oh. OK. We’ll meet them in the penthouse.”

By the time the Avengers made it up to the top floor, Pepper had greeted Ford’s team and settled them in the living room.

“So,” Natasha began with a smile, “did you live up to your reputation?”

“I’d say so,” Ford answered easily.

“You got a TV in here?” Hardison asked. “‘Cause you’re going to want it on in,” he glanced at his watch, “thirty seconds.”

Three screens flickered on, all showing the same talking heads discussing some dull scandal or other.

Hardison looked down again. “And three, two, one--” He gestured at one of the TVs, which, sure enough, immediately shifted to a “Breaking News” logo, before giving way to the grim face of the anchor.

“Sources have confirmed that General Thaddeus ‘Thunderbolt’ Ross was taken into military police custody just minutes ago.” A bad photo of Ross appeared to the left of the anchor’s head. “Authorities have refused to comment, but we are getting reports that the charges brought will include treason.”

Tony drowned out the rest of the statement with a whoop, and Clint grinned and clapped Bruce on the back. Bruce sat slowly on the nearest chair, staring almost blankly at the screen. Natasha tapped his shoulder with her fist. “Jackass deserves everything he’s going to get.” 

Bruce nodded absently, and sat in silence for a long moment before turning to Ford and his crew. “I-- Thank you.”

“It was a good job,” Ford nodded easily. “Worth doing.”

Steve hadn’t spoken yet--hadn’t really even met anybody’s eyes since the newscast started. “Did you-- I have to ask.” His shoulders tensed as though his words were physically painful. “It isn’t that I don’t appreciate that the bastard’s behind bars but--did you just frame an Air Force General for treason?”

“Absolutely not.” Spencer’s voice was very nearly a growl.

“We just opened the door.” Sophie explained. “He walked through all by himself.”

“If we were cops, it would be entrapment.” Ford gave a feral grin. “But we’re not cops.”

Steve thought about it for a moment and smiled. “Works for me.”

“Drinks all around!” Tony ducked behind the wet bar and came up with several bottles of champagne, which he pressed into Clint’s and Steve’s hands to open. Then he ducked down again and selected another bottle. “Nate! I’ve been saving a bottle of ridiculously good scotch. You’re just the man to appreciate it.” He poured a couple of tumblers full and handed one to Ford.

Ford took a sip and smiled. “I hope you don’t think this is going to get you out of your promise to help us out.”

“Oh, Hell no,” Tony grinned. “That’s gonna be fun.”


End file.
